Down like a shot
falling into unearthed light or something like that is who I was last night. you brought
me a drink you didn’t know the name of & told me I could get it. you
not the drink which I downed even though it was my 9th
of the night the drink not you. dancehall. always
dancehall. a manner of movement learned
& not easily lost so I wind my hips
anyway & something is happening
to you. you bout to start
some shit & I say good. not
because it would be.
I haven’t been
touched
in a while.
don’t start something you can’t finish is maybe the worst advice
I’ve ever heard as you drop a handful of my ass
thudding down a small flight of stairs.
that’s what I am. a small flight
of stairs, a small
flight, down.
By aziza
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